A Helping Hand
by Lialane Graest
Summary: Count to 10, calm yourself. Stein counts to 10 slightly differently than the rest of us. Insane!Stein, differing interactions.


_1._ It bent, it cracked it popped. A single sound, a simple noise, it brought a smile reminiscent of a young boy's to an adult's face.

_2. _The scream tore through the air, propelled from two powerful lungs. She struggled futilely against the bonds he had set.

_3._ Three fingers slipped around the next rib that he could see, and he bent it again, relishing the sounds that it pulled from the woman strapped to the table.

_4._ It took four deep, shuddering breaths from her before he deemed her calm enough to bend and crack and snap and shatter the rib that he was holding onto. She bucked up against him, screaming again.

_5; _the number of giggles that escaped him.

_6. _She begged him, calling his name as she gasped for breath, her heart exposed. He was surprised that she was alive; more surprised that she was conscious. He picked up the number six handled scalpel and dragged it delicately across her stomach, having grown bored of her chest.

_7._ There were seven long beats of her heart before her entire body relaxed. The woman on the table had passed out. Finally.

_8. _A vestige of sanity fought against the madness as he circled a sideways eight on her stomach, the symbol of infinity. It was also the shape of the necklace Spirit had insisted he buy for her. The same necklace that hung around her neck even now.

_9. _He let his finger trail delicately through the blood, his mind fighting for sanity as he paused, the scalpel held upside down now, the 6 a 9, in a hand that should normally not even need his eyes on the patient to continue its motions.

_10._ His mind finally put together what was happening as he looked down at his hands, his ten fingers covered in her blood. His eyes widened as he looked at the body in front of him, the scalpel falling from his hand. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

The person on the table was barely breathing, and Stein hit his knees, his mind buckling under the weight of what he had done. He fought for sanity even as his mind fought to shut down. If he gave in to the madness he knew that he would not return this time, and she would die.

She may still die.

Giggles trailed out of his mouth as he staggered to his feet, the scalpel clutched firmly in his hand.

He fought the madness, pushed it away. He embraced the clinical side of his mind; the person on the slab had no name. No face. She was simply another patient. He would do what he could.

He nearly lost his sanity when he realized that he would do whatever it took to save her. His hand shook and he forced himself to remain silent, to ignore who was on the table in front of him. He worked quickly and completely quietly.

It was only when he heard the familiar footsteps approach him that he looked up from the body and found himself staring at her. There was a look of horror on her face and she took a step back as he looked at her blankly, disbelief obvious on his.

"But… you… I…"

He looked down again.

Red hair covered a pale face, the man's chest barely rising; Stein's hands were buried to the wrist in it. The scalpel that he remembered using to clean up the cuts was sitting out of reach; there were no sutures anywhere near.

He could see the IV in the death scythe's arm now; the restraints around his arms, legs, wrists and ankles. He stepped back, his hands coming out of Spirit's chest, blood covering them and the man's torso.

"…_Senpai…"_

His eyes closed as he crumpled to the ground, too afraid to repair the damage that he had caused, afraid he would slip and cause even more.

When he opened them he was alone. There was no body on the table, no blood on his hands. His scalpels and operating supplies were where they should be.

Marie's voice rang through the lab calling him, and Stein curled into himself on the floor. He knew fear, of all emotions, and he felt it now. He could kill her, he realized, and never even know. He could harm her trying to help her. He trembled as the knowledge.

A touch on his shoulder made him tremble even more violently. A moment later someone tried to pull him upright and he made it to a crouching position before he collapsed against the wall. A window was a few feet from him and he looked up at it before he looked at the hand that was extended to him.

He didn't remember it being daylight. He could feel scratches on his face, his glasses gone. He could feel the madness scrabbling at the back of his mind; but for the moment, he could feel the blessed relief of sanity.

He reached out to take the hand that was offered to him.

* * *

**A/N: Unfortunately, I don't know who the artist is of the coverart. Tis a shame. This didn't start out to use that picture, but as I wrote it, I discovered that I loved it. I always envisioned that the hand was Spirit, but it does work for Marie as well. I hope you enjoyed. I don't own Soul Eater.**


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